


How to Create a False Sun

by hydrangeamaiden



Series: The Rainbow Season [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alchemy, Amnesia, Dragons, F/F, Gen, High Fantasy, Magic, Memory Loss, Mutual Pining, Open Relationships, Other, Royalty, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28882683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrangeamaiden/pseuds/hydrangeamaiden
Summary: The kingdom of Selda receives little sunlight throughout the year. Sioda, tired of all the gloom, resolves to do something about it.
Relationships: Original Female Character(s)/Original Non-Binary Character(s), Original Female Character(s)/Original Non-Human Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Series: The Rainbow Season [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024474
Kudos: 3





	How to Create a False Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! A Rainbow Season story where I won't be touching on anything triggering. It's just going to be world-building this time. I need to establish how magic works in this universe :T

When Princess Sioda approaches the alchemy stores, the guards aren’t sure what to think. She has learned confusion during her months here: the cock of a head, the way the tail tip curls like a question mark. A dragon’s body language is similar to a cat’s, in some ways. Though she would’ve known either way, because the guard on the left asks, “Are you well enough to be up and about, your Majesty?”

“Yes,” she answers shyly, bowing her head. She feels lighter both in body and spirit, and in this improved condition, she has decided to leave the tower. During her excursions around the palace, she confirmed her suspicions that there were few Sun Stones in supply, even among the ruling class and nobility. That being the case, she could only imagine the worst case scenario for the Seldans living below the palace and on the outskirts of the kingdom. Selda gets little sunlight throughout the year, especially during the cold winter months.

The kingdom would surely flourish if they could grow crops to feed themselves, and to export to other countries (Agartha excluded; no one has had contact with her birthplace since she was married). The easiest solution would be to get Sun Stones. Lots of them. Her search has led her towards the bottom of the castle, where she now stands before the two befuddled guards.

“Very well...” One of the guards leaves his chair, and takes a ring of keys from his belt. The heavy wooden doors swing open to reveal a dark, cavernous room that fills with yellow light when Sioda flicks a switch on the wall. The guards leave the door open and return to their seats, and presumably to whatever conversation they were having before she interrupted them.

The alchemy stores are vast, cold, and silent. Sioda, from her place on the steps, sees a labyrinth of shelves stretched out below her. Like clearings in a forest, they are broken up by strange machines and sitting areas, none of which are occupied. At the bottom of the stairs is a desk, also unoccupied, with a sign propped up against it. Sioda does not recognize most of the runes, but she can glean the context from the times listed. She glances at the clock on the wall, taking note that she’s here an hour before she’s supposed to be. Yet the guards let her in anyway. Perhaps that is another perk of being royalty.

Sioda skirts around the desk, down the aisle, and into the nearest row of shelves. She’s not yet at the stage where she can read Seldan runes without thinking; she must laboriously translate each word in her mind, while stumbling across letters that look similar to each other. Fortunately, she remembers what she’ll need. It would’ve been a nightmare to start from scratch in a language she’s not yet fluent in.

Also, the containers are all made of glass. Even if she couldn’t read the labels, she would’ve found what she needed from appearance alone—though there are certain chemicals and other ingredients that look similar. She puzzles over each item, getting distracted by jars of starlight and wine bottles of snake flowers. There are even preserved specimens.

There is a problem, however: Sioda cannot find sunlight anywhere. She goes through the ‘S’ and the ‘Su’ section over and over, because it’s not uncommon for her to completely miss something right in front of her. She goes back to the ‘L’ and ‘Li’ sections. There’s a subsection for ‘Light’: starlight, moonlight, dark light, slow light (also under ‘Ph’ for ‘Phosphorescence’), and living light under ‘B’ and ‘Bi’. There are other types of light that probably don’t exist in Agartha. Other types of light besides sunlight are missing. Aurora light, for example, and gem light, which is odd.

Sioda cannot substitute sunlight with something else. It’s the only thing that’ll make plants grow. Also, it could be dangerous. She has had some truly miserable moments in this castle, but she doesn’t want calamity to befall it or its residents, even by accident.

So, Sioda gathers the rest of the ingredients, all unexciting, and leaves just as the first scholars are filtering in. When she walks by, they drop to their knees and fold their hands in prayer, murmuring things like ‘our savior’ and ‘princess’. She is a princess, true, but that doesn’t make her a thing to worship. Heat rushes to her face, and she gestures for them all to rise. Why are they like this?

“Where is the sun?” she asks one of them. They all exchange glances.

“The sky,” says a scholar, with the wariness of one answering a trick question.

Sioda shakes her head and jiggles one of the bottles. The dragon lets out an ‘ah’ of understanding, and says, “We have none. Shall we order some?”

“No, no. It will take too long.” Sioda tucks the bottle back into her bag, and makes to leave. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, princess,” murmur the dragons, bowing deeply. Sioda hurries away without looking back.

She sighs with relief when she returns to the tower in which she dwells. The guards and retainers all treat her like any other person. Her lady in waiting, recently appointed to her, speaks easily to her. Her spouse is as doting as ever. The scholars and nobles, however, look upon her as some strange, untouchable thing. It confuses her to no end. All she does is study Seldan, meander around the castle grounds, and occasionally sit with Dionaea in meetings. She has done nothing of note until this day.

Sioda is tired of this aimless lifestyle. The days have blurred together, leaving her as cold and listless as a corpse. She is only barely invigorated. Slowing down even a little will result in a backwards slide into lethargy, from which she could not be revived from a second time. Getting out of bed, much less her and Dionaea’s room, required bullying herself into compliance.

Speaking of the monarch, she wonders how they even function with such a dull job. Her parents in Agartha went out of their way to enjoy the luxuries they had inherited, with grand balls, hunting trips, and fine art commissioned on the walls of their castle. In contrast, Dionaea spends many a night hunched over their desk, overseeing court procedures, and speaking to delegates until their voice has gone hoarse. They’ve been especially busy this past week, and Sioda is starting to feel their absence.

She should be grateful that they’re not clinging to her, but they’re also one of the few people she has a true connection with. The palace staff, for example: she’s on relatively good terms with them (not all; it is impossible to be loved by everyone), but not enough to join them at the dinner table. That might be Dionaea’s fault; they were particularly protective—nay, possessive—when she first arrived, but the reason for that is shrouded in the fog of her mind.

That brain fog is partly to blame for her depressed state. Having such gaps in her memory has been distressing, to say the least. It was a fairly common affliction back in Agartha: a person’s core, or the flower on their forehead, could eat memories against their will. There were also whispers that sudden, profound memory loss could be caused by Eira, the Goddess of Oblivion. As far as Sioda knows, she hasn’t done anything to anger that particular deity. Nay, she couldn’t have, and neither could those other people. Even a non-religious girl like Sioda knows that Eira doesn’t interfere with mortals.

She reaches her and Dionaea’s bedroom while she’s mulling over this. Over time, it has started to feel more and more like home. Her personal affects once gathered timidly on the shelf in the corner, but now they are scattered across the room: a book on the bed, hair accessories at the vanity, little figurines on her desk in a row.

Sioda goes to the row of screens on the wall. They’re each about the size of a photograph, and decorated with gilded frames. She would forgive anyone who thought they were moving paintings, and not actually screens. A friendly, 8bit tune plays when she taps one, and it comes up with a list of options.

Going out to collect sunlight will be a trial for her. Not because Selda is particularly dangerous, but because she has never left the palace grounds before. She’ll need her lady in waiting to accompany her. So, without hesitation, she presses the ‘call’ button.


End file.
